


Style Five: The Air Nomads

by rewmariewrites



Series: tattoo: the four nations [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang POV, Aang is Sad, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Arguing, Cultural Differences, Gen, Minor Aang/Katara, Short Chapters, Slow To Update, Tattoos, imposter syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rewmariewrites/pseuds/rewmariewrites
Summary: Aang doesn’t know how to give tattoos.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang & Toph Beifong, Aang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: tattoo: the four nations [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1141580
Comments: 25
Kudos: 288





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: this fic is, as of first posting (22/05/2020) unfinished and therefore slow to update. see tags for potential tws. have fun :)

Aang doesn’t know how to give tattoos.

He was all of twelve when he ran away from the Southern Air Temple, of course he doesn’t know how to give anyone tattoos, but he still, somehow, in his messed-up, overachieving little brain, considers it a personal failing.

The thing is, when they visit the Southern Air Temple the first time, he and Katara and Sokka, he forgets to go through and look for anything that could have survived the Fire Nation’s purge. He has the intentions, he plans where to go and where to look, but when he gets there he just - he forgets _.  _

_ Yearsmonthsdays  _ later, when he finally has the space to breathe and think about culture, he knows that these things are all long gone, crushed by quakes and eaten by the hardy vines and roots undoubtedly overtaking the Air Temples. He has no one but himself as a reference, at this point, and he knows that it’s not nearly enough.  _ He’s  _ not enough. There may never be another airbender but him ever again, and if that’s the case, things like tattoos won’t matter when he dies. He’ll be known as the Avatar who doomed the Air Nomads to be forgotten because he wasn’t even smart enough to think about preserving Air Nomad culture because he was too busy worrying about Ozai and revenge and justice and restoring balance. Which are all good things, kinda, but...

When the war is won and done, what will he have left to go back to? Nothing. Katara and Sokka have the Water Tribes, and Zuko has the Fire Nation even if he hates it most of the time, and Toph will always have the Earth Nation even if she never wants to see her parents again. There’s nothing but ghosts left in any of the Air Temples, and that will never be anything but Aang’s fault. His fault for running away, his fault for being a coward.

Katara always gives him this  _ look _ when he starts talking (or thinking) like this, like she really wants to cuff him upside the head for being dumb. She does it to Sokka, and Toph always gets a flick in the forehead when she’s being mean, but Aang and Zuko always just get  _ the look. _

_ You have a hero-complex the size of the entire Earth Nation, _ the look says.  _ You are literally a child, no one expects you to be able to do everything. You don’t have to be perfect. You have us to support you, so take it easy for, like, maybe one minute. You will always make mistakes and you will always have regrets, and that’s okay. We can help you learn to live with them. _

(Maybe he’s just reading into it too much. The look could really be saying anything, but honestly, that’s the beauty of it.  _ Anything _ very easily translates to  _ anything you need to hear _ .)

What Katara actually  _ says  _ to him, though, is usually something like: “You’re the last one left. And that sucks, because it means there’s all this pressure on you to revive and preserve your culture, but it’s also  _ liberating.  _ Aang, we’re the  _ last ones left _ . Southern waterbending traditions are  _ whatever the fuck I say they are.  _ Airbending traditions are  _ whatever the fuck you want them to be _ . And if you decide that what you want is to make Momo your nation’s official mascot, that’s okay. Let us know, and we’ll help you.”

It helps, most of the time. Some of the time it doesn’t, but that’s not the point. The point is that most of the time he has hope, and that gets him through the worst of it; through mourning his friends and mentors, through his moral battles with ingrained pacifism, through the entirety of learning how to earthbend,  _ and _ through that very last battle with Ozai. It helps him through the aftermath, through trying to figure out what the hell it is he’s supposed to do next.

No one told him he’d survive the battle. No one told him he would have to live through what comes after.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See you soon, Twinkle Toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ill update every week' she says, like a liar. i felt bad because the last chapter was so short, so have another one <3

It’s not until  _ well _ after the war is over that Aang is able to think about airbending in any significant way that isn’t directly related to its use as a weapon, or tool, or parlour trick. After thinking about it (and thinking about it, and  _ thinking about it),  _ he decides that he wants to visit all the Air Temples to see what he can find. Tattoos are still at the back on his mind, but he doubts he’ll be able to find anything about them. Any skin they would be on is long dead by now, and any parchment or scroll with illustrations is long decayed. Still, he thinks he needs to go and look. To take his time and see what he can find. More importantly, he needs to go and explore the places he used to call home, to see what can be salvaged, to see if he _ wants _ to salvage anything.

By then, everyone has grown up enough that they don’t want to follow him around the world. Not again.

Toph is long gone, at that point. She taught him how to earthbend, became the first-ever metalbender, founded Republic City’s Police Force, had a couple of ill-advised children, then vanished into the thick forests of the Earth Nation after a spectacularly intense panic attack. Aang and Toph may have had a slightly more antagonistic relationship than most, but he had always considered her a friend, a  _ best _ friend. Sometimes he misses her so fiercely it’s all he can do to not abandon his responsibilities and scour the forests inch by inch just to hear her call him Twinkle Toes. 

Aang  _ does _ succumb to the urge, every once in a while. He always starts at the Banyan-Grove Tree and uses Appa to circle outward and outward in never-ending spirals, hoping against all hope that maybe  _ this time _ he’ll find a sign that she’s alive, even if she doesn’t want to be found.

It never works. He never finds her. Toph is long gone, and she probably wouldn’t have wanted  _ him _ to find her even if she wanted to be found. He had always been more of a hindrance than a help to her, after all, no matter how much he had loved her like a sister.

(Just before he dies,  _ yearsmonthsdays _ in the future, he goes to the Banyan-Grove Tree, puts his ear to the ground, and  _ listens _ . And he thinks - 

He thinks he might hear - 

_ See you soon, Twinkle Toes.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't been active on there in forever but my tumblr is rewmariewrites.tumblr.com if that's your jam


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka is the one person Aang seeks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell im uncomfortable with small chapters  
> have another one

Sokka is the one person Aang seeks out when he makes the decision to leave Republic City, possibly forever, in order to explore the Air Temples.

Sokka grew into himself in more ways than one over the years; not only is he an absolutely  _ massive _ man - standing a head taller than even Zuko and half-again as wide at the shoulders - he’s grown into a beloved and effective Chieftan for the Southern Water Tribe, and a respected ambassador for Republic City. It breaks Aang’s heart, a little, but Sokka is too important and too busy for Aang to drag out on another self-centered trek across the world. Sokka’s one of the only reasons Aang can even afford to go on this trip; with Sokka here keeping the peace, Aang knows there will be no earth-shattering trouble. Yakone has been dealt with now, after all, and things can’t  _ possibly _ get worse than that, not in Aang’s lifetime. 

(It’s a plea more than anything. Sometimes Aang wants to take a page out of Toph’s book and disappear into the forest. Maybe absconding to the Air Temples with Katara is his version of that?)

Sokka, as he always does, listens carefully as Aang outlines his plans, laughs when Aang pointedly  _ does not _ invite him along, and gives a bone-crushing hug when they finally say goodbye. 

It still stings, a little, that his old friend won’t be helping to strengthen and support the culture he has to make from scratch, just like he had always supported the Gaang. Then again, having some of the Gaang and not others would sting too, and this is a whole new adventure. Maybe it doesn’t need to be just like it was. This can be a new adventure, with new friends, and anyways, Katara will be there with him the whole time. He can do without Toph, without Sokka and Zuko. Katara is perfect, and she’s everything he needs.

Now that he’s thinking about it, Aang doesn’t think he can handle years of isolation with only his girlfriend and her brother for company. Again. Not that she had been his girlfriend the first time, but-

Well, she’s not his girlfriend for very long  _ this _ time, so that hardly matters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They aren’t able to stop arguing, that’s the problem.

They aren’t able to stop arguing, that’s the problem.

Every day,  _ all _ day, they argue and yell and scream and snarl about pacifism versus direct action, careful consideration versus  _ needing to burn it all to the ground _ , and no one ever wins. They just hurt, and stew, and sleep on their respective sides of the tent until someone gets fed up and reaches out, whispering apologies they don’t really mean. They haven’t fought like this since just before Aang defeated Ozai, when they were all overwhelmed with stress and moral quandaries, and it catches Aang entirely off guard. Most nights, he’s both blindsided and  _ furious,  _ too confused and caught up in his own emotions to do more than half-heartedly placate Katara.

It’s on a night he can’t force himself to reach out, a night where Katara  _ refuses _ to, that Aang leaves the tent to curl up between Appa’s paws, just like he used to when he was (one hundred and) twelve. It takes all night, until the sky in the distance starts to light up bright and orange at the edges with the stars still twinkling in the highest parts of the sky, but he finally,  _ finally,  _ clues in that just loving Katara  _ (some days he loves her more than he loves the air in his lungs)  _ isn’t good enough. He lays there, listening to Appa’s great whooshing breaths, staring up at the stars, that realizes that they’re both so  _ desperately _ unhappy, probably have been for a long time, and he doesn’t even know when it started.

She is the raging swirl of a whirlpool, the riptide that pulls careless swimmers under just to drown them, the righteous crash of angry waves against a cliffside, the jagged rocks lurking just under the surface of the water. She is beautiful, and wonderful, and  _ everything he wants and has ever wanted,  _ but Aang has done her an unforgivable disservice because he has not let her be everything that she needs to be. 

They are both concerned about the betterment of the world, but Katara has no patience for the compromise and comfort and conflict resolution that Aang favours. She does not suffer fools, and her morals are black and white, while Aang has only ever seen the world in shades of grey. Katara  _ wants  _ people to be uncomfortable,  _ wants _ them to be aware and ashamed of the things they’ve done wrong, and if they can’t see what they’ve done then she will damn well  _ show them.  _

(That is not to say that Katara is not capable of gentleness. She is tender and loving, nurturing and understanding, empathetic even in her darkest moments. She  _ cares.  _ Caring is at the root of her, and maybe that’s why she stayed with him for so long despite all the unhappiness he likely caused her.)

(He knows that now, but… he didn’t then. That will always be another of his biggest regrets. That he didn’t  _ notice.) _

The long years that he and Katara spent together were not perfect, not by a long shot. Even when they were young, they fought in awful, horrible, screaming fights where both of them were so  _ sure _ that they were the one in the right, that they were  _ righteous.  _ They snarled too, insults and untruths and  _ you were never good enough _ s that are impossible to take back, even if you never meant them. Weeks were spent apart licking their wounds without ever really considering why they were together in the first place; it was destiny, they were meant to be, so they always came back to each other.

But! That was only at the beginning! Eventually, they figured it out, and they stopped fighting! Maybe Katara was a little quiet, but she was probably just tired from helping Sokka with Southern Water Tribe politics. And maybe Aang was a little absent, but he was trying to get Republic City up and running smoothly. The important thing is that they were really starting to figure it out.

Honestly, those (too few) hours at the end of the war and into the beginning of the rest of his life - the ones he spent in Katara’s arms, with Katara in his arms - were some of the most blissful in his life. He felt safe when she smiled at him, heavy-lidded and sated, like a cat in the sun. He felt awestruck when she laughed with him, at him, around him. He was overwhelmed at even the simple fact that  _ he _ was the one allowed to touch her so casually, so constantly, so intimately.

Unfortunately, when you undertake a multi-year, worldwide, exploratory mission with your lover when your previously volatile relationship has only just sort-of stabilized and you’re unused to spending prolonged periods of time together, things tend to come to a head. Well, more accurately, things tend to  _ explode. _

“Oh  _ fuck you _ Aang, you and your righteous, entitled fucking mindset. You think I ever wanted this? You think I wanted to be your  _ docile  _ fucking  _ doll?” _ Katara is  _ livid _ . He hasn’t seen her so mad in years, and Aang is honestly completely confused by this outburst.

“Katara -?” he starts, but she immediately cuts him off with a sharp gesture. Her tattoos stand stark and bright against the dark skin of her face, of her hands, and the dew on the grass is starting to pool by her feet as if drawn by the intensity of her emotions.

“No, I’ve had  _ enough _ . I’ve made myself invisible - I’ve cut little pieces off of my soul so that I could become the perfect little wife for you, and what has it gotten me?  _ Nothing. _ You put me up on this high fucking pedestal when we were children, like I was this perfect mixture of mother, sister, and  _ fuckable _ , and I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to live up to that impossible standard. You didn’t like it that we argued so much, so I stopped contradicting you. You wanted to run Republic City all by yourself, so I went off to the fucking South Pole to help Sokka, who  _ didn’t need my help,  _ by the way. You didn’t like it that you weren’t seeing me as much, so I started staying home. When did  _ you _ change for  _ me _ , Aang?”

“Katara, I -“

“Do you know how many times I was able to just  _ walk away _ without you even noticing? For hours? Do you know how many times I did that back in Republic City? Too many  _ fucking _ times, Aang.”

“I don’t understand-“

“Oh, I  _ know _ you don’t. You never do. Because you’re the Avatar, so how can you be wrong? How can you be a  _ shitty enough boyfriend _ to not even  _ notice _ when I’ve left the room? I get so tired of your smug fucking voice that I get up and leave so I can go find a body of water to scream into submission. I haven’t done that since I was  _ fourteen!” _

“How can I fix-”

“Oh, you think you can fix this, now? You think that you can wave your magical little airbending hands and everything will be fine? Like you haven’t spent the last  _ three years _ alternately avoiding me and then fucking me quiet? I  _ will not _ make myself quiet for you anymore. I  _ will not _ be  _ neglected _ like this anymore. I don’t want  _ this _ , and I don’t want  _ you.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on thursdays, probably. catch me at rewmariewrites.tumblr.com for updates and stuff


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After that, there’s really nothing to say, is there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo its a whole day early  
> if i cant be on top of my dissertation i can be on top of this

After that, there’s really nothing to say, is there? 

(They do end up talking a little more, after. Hashing out their darkest feelings over the space of an entire twenty-four hours, until they’re tired and sad and hollow, until they’re no longer resentful. They’re _done_ , they’re _over,_ but at least they don’t hate each other any more. Because they did truly hate each other, in a way. Aang doesn’t realize it until the weight of it leaves his body, but Katara dumping him leaves him feeling _light._ He isn’t responsible for her misery any more, and even though that leaves him feeling desolate and alone, it’s also one less thing for him to fuck up.)

Thirty-six hours after their official breakup, Katara asks to be taken to the Fire Nation. She wants to spend some time with Zuko - Firelord Zuko, now - away from the places where she spent so much time with Aang. She doesn’t want Republic City, she doesn’t want the Southern Water tribe, she wants something new. It hurts, but Aang gets it - he’s selfishly relieved that his mission to the Air Temples will take him from the places he’s used to spending time with Katara. He’ll have to go back eventually, he knows, but at least he doesn’t have to do it now. He doesn’t have to explain Katara’s absence to the Council, doesn’t have to face the weight of Sokka’s disappointment or Suki’s pity.

Katara feels the same, evidently. She’ll write to Sokka eventually, she says, but she won’t be able to handle his reaction to their breakup right now. Sokka had always been the staunchest supporter of their relationship; he’d believed Aang and Katara to be the most stable and perfect couple besides himself and Suki, and hearing this news will probably spark a dramatic reaction worthy of re-enactment by the Ember Island Players. There will be tears, and surprise, and probably a tense few weeks where Sokka has to re-learn Aang and Katara as separate people, and how he’s going to balance his personal feelings towards them both. It would be  _ exhausting _ for everyone involved.

So, three months into their trip, Aang drops Katara off in the Fire Nation, with a stilted but heartfelt goodbye from both of them, and a promise that maybe they’ll try again someday.

(They don’t. It’s for the best.)

Zuko nods a greeting at Aang as Katara scales her way down Appa’s large body and onto the roof of the palace. Aang hates to admit it, but Fire Lord is a good look on Zuko. His hair is pulled up in the traditional style, but has pulled up his sleeves in the sweltering Fire Nation summer heat, showing off the basic mastery tattoos which are usually hidden under long sleeves and layers. He stands stoic and patient, a markedly different person from the angsty teenager who chased Aang around the globe out of a misguided sense of ‘honour’. This new Zuko is a man who has learned his lessons, has taken them to heart, and has put his iron resolve to good use by tearing his nation to the ground and rebuilding it, piece by piece, with his own hands. Aang knows that Zuko had input in every single aspect of the new Fire Nation, from the function of the government to the layout of the flowerbeds in the welfare housing gardens. He has truly replaced his father's era of war and suffering with one of peace, and kindness. It was hard work, but this Zuko is entirely capable, and he looks it. 

Even though Aang wants to go down and see Zuko, to visit and see what’s changed in the few months it’s been since they last saw each other, he knows they can’t. Zuko is Katara’s best friend, has been since before they took down Ozai, and it would be selfish beyond compare to take that away from Katara. The moment Katara’s feet touch the ground, he says “Yip Yip!” and raises one solitary hand in farewell as Appa heaves himself from the ground and into the air. 

(He only gives in to the urge to look back for a moment, when he knows he’s too far away for them to notice. 

They wouldn’t have noticed anyways. Zuko has Katara wrapped in a firm hug, and they’re just standing there, getting smaller and smaller, as Aang flies away.)

After a moment, or a minute, or maybe an hour or two, Aang feels something  _ wet _ dripping onto his hands, and looks up at the sky, confused. It’s not raining, but -  _ oh _ . He’s crying. He’s crying, because Katara has finally left him just like he always feared, and now he’s alone. It was a relief, at first - still is, if he really thinks about it - but he’s also just lost his best friend, his closest confidante. He’ll never be able to get her back. The life, the family that he wanted with her - that’s all gone now, because  _ he messed it up.  _ He has nothing left, nothing but his lemur and his flying bison, and that’s  _ pathetic _ .

He cries the entire flight back to the Southern Air Temple, and through most of the night afterwards. Momo curls up around his neck, and Appa tries his best to curl around him too, sending huge gusting breaths that dry Aang’s tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are at rewmariewrites.tumblr.com feel free to @ me there


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Aang five years to visit all four Air Temples. 

It takes Aang five years to visit all four Air Temples. 

He really doesn’t mean for it to take that long. He had set out with the intention to grab as much as he could and go, had made a whole new saddle for Appa loaded with compartments and chests for that specific purpose, so he could be back in Republic City within a year or two at the most. He’d even promised Sokka and Suki that he’d be back soon, to give himself an extra layer of accountability. He was going to stick to his schedule, he was going to be back soon, and he was going to find everything he was looking for. 

That said, he was _going_ to come back with Katara as his fiance, so that should have been his first clue as to how this whole trip was going to go. His second clue should have been his whole entire past of _everything blowing up in his face._ ‘No Aang,’ one might say, ‘not everything in your life has blown up! There are so many things that have gone well!’ Aang would agree, because he is inordinately aware of the many blessings the Spirits have sent his way over the years, but he would also be the first to point any dissenting voices towards the disturbing trend of things not going Aang’s way, one that should at least make him aware of the _possibility_ of his plans not working out, and making him think of backups. Running away from the Southern Air Temple when he was 12, exploring the abandoned Fire Nation ship with Katara that made Zuko attack the Southern Water Tribe, trying to learn firebending too early and burning Katara - these are all early, but exemplary, examples of times Aang thought he had the right idea, and the world swiftly reminded him that he was _wrong._

This time, though, is not nearly as explosive as it has been in the past. At first he lingers in the temples because of a sense of safety and nostalgia, especially on the heels of his breakup with Katara. Then he lingers because… well, there’s so much that’s  _ broken.  _ The walls are crumbling, the foundations are fractured, the gardens are overgrown, and, worst of all, he can  _ feel  _ the sadness hanging over the whole place like an ever-present twilight. This place is meant to be filled with people, Air Nomads and civilians alike, flitting in and out like bees in a hive. Never stopping, always moving, never lingering for long. Monk Gyatso always says that he had never stayed in one place so long; Aang had tried to apologize for it once, after a roaming nomad had made an offhand comment about staying in the same place for too long feeling akin to dying. Monk Gyatso had laughed in that way he had - so light and joyous, so young for such an old body - and told Aang that he did not regret a single day spent in the Southern Air Temple caring for Aang. That there was just as much to learn from staying in one place and learning its ins and outs as there is from traveling the world, and that the important thing is to not prioritize one over the other.

So, Aang stays. He trusts his instincts - which are  _ screaming _ at him to do something about the state of the place he loves - and stays.

As always, he tries to fix things by himself first. He’s the Avatar, he should be able to bend his way around the problem. He has fire, water, earth,  _ and  _ air literally at his fingertips, and with his spiritual connections, he’s the  _ best  _ person to do some renovations to an ancient, under-loved structure.

(Never mind that his ‘spiritual connections’ are in name only. Never mind that, though the fight with Ozai had unblocked his Avatar state, the spirit world locked itself just out of his reach the same day Aang chose Katara, while Guru Patik was guiding him towards total control of the Avatar state. Aang won’t regret that he chose Katara,  _ can’t  _ regret it, but… he is sad, sometimes. There’s a huge part of his duties as the Avatar that he no longer has the ability to complete; the spirits will have to be neglected until he dies, and the next Avatar takes his place. Assuming, of course, that his death won’t break the cycle.)

As it turns out, twenty-three years of combat training has  _ not  _ prepared Aang for a career in construction. Who knew?

Gigantic, fast-moving thrusts of earth that will send a person flying into the  _ clouds _ ? Easy peasy. One tiny wall with filigree details, that doesn’t  _ actually seem to have a purpose?  _ The bane of Aang’s existence, apparently, as well as  _ entirely impossible.  _

It takes four weeks (and eight hundred and forty-six tries) for him to throw up his hands and give up. He’s nothing if not tenacious, but this is too much even for Aang.

He mentions his problems to a merchant in the closest town while he’s making his weekly supply run; the merchant knows him well enough by now that the ‘Avatar novelty’ has worn off, and she scoffs derisively at Aang when he tells her about how he’s trying to rebuild the Air Temples with earthbending. 

“Of course it didn’t work. You’re trying to bend a foreign element in the sacred space of another culture’s bending! The spirits probably  hate that! Aren’t you the Avatar, don’t you know these things? You’re supposed to be  good at all that mystical mumbo-jumbo.”

Aang winces and scrubs at his growing beard with the heel of one hand. It’s starting to get scraggly - he’s trying for an Uncle Iroh look, but it’s starting to give off more of a Swamp Man vibe. “I’m not exactly very good at the Spirit World stuff; I’m not spirit-touched like some of the previous Avatars. The closest I ever really got to the Spirit World was when my buddy’s girlfriend turned into the moon,” Aang says. 

It’s not entirely untrue - though he’s been to the Spirit World a number of times, it was never for very long, and he always had a specific purpose. He hasn’t been able to go back for… well, for a long time. That’s a long story though, one that he doesn’t want to get into with the merchant he sees once a week.

_ (Into the moon?  _ Another customer wonders, incredulously, in the background.) 

The merchant just blinks a couple times, then sighs. “Whatever. If you want help, I know a guy who can help you rebuild. His family have been stoneworkers for generations - they’re not benders, but his great-grandmother helped the Southern Air Temple with upkeep, or something. Tell him I sent you, and he might be able to help out.”

Aang thanks her very much, gathers his groceries, and heads off to talk to the stoneworker after making a short stop to drop some letters with the local courier’s office (Sokka gets  _ mopey _ if he doesn’t hear from Aang at least every two weeks). 

The merchant was right about the stoneworker’s family having ties to the Air Temple. The guy is  _ ecstatic _ about helping rebuild, and asks for some time to find his family’s notes, and gather some people to help with labour, and maybe do some sketches-

“I can’t  _ pay _ you,” Aang interrupts, feeling guilty. “I have - well, I can give you what I have, but then I won’t be able to eat. The gardens at the Temple are all overgrown, and I won’t eat meat, so I need to be able to buy produce from town. Being the Avatar doesn’t exactly pay well, you know? So I want to pay you, but I  _ can’t _ pay you, so don’t get too excited, maybe? I understand if you want to change your mind. Even if I could just copy your notes when you find them, that would be really great, or-”

But the stoneworker is shaking his head and waving his hands in the air like he can physically push Aang’s words back at him. “I’m sure we can find another form of payment - I get good business, I’m not worried about that. Do you know how _cool_ it will be to even just _see_ the Air Temple? No one can get up there without a flying bison! And I _know_ my great-grandma worked on that temple - she used to tell stories about it when I was just a kid. I’m going to find those notes and I’m going to help you rebuild, so you just hold your eagle-horses because my Grammy would _skin me alive_ if I didn’t help you. She _loved_ the airbenders, always said that if she’d had a choice she would’ve abandoned this town and lived with them forever.”

That… makes Aang’s brain tingle in a way that means he’s having a  _ very deep thought  _ that won’t actually surface for another couple of days. It feels like a good thought, though, so he’s excited for it to eventually surface.

“You’re  _ sure _ you don’t mind that I can’t pay you? Because I really, really can’t pay you,” Aang clarifies.

The stoneworker waves his hands again. “Grammy would rise from the grave if I even  _ thought _ about taking money from you. We’ll figure something else out, don’t you worry.”

And so it begins. Two weeks after they talk for the first time, Aang brings the stoneworker and his crew to Appa, then makes several trips bringing all their people and equipment up to the Temple. 

They immediately get to work, chattering and laughing as they do so, and Aang feels… light. Free. Similar to how he felt when Katara left him, but without the bone-deep despair that came from disappointing her so thoroughly. The Temple immediately seems brighter, like it’s just been  _ waiting _ for people to grace its halls again, and Aang needs to take a second to brace himself against the burst of relief he feels.

_ That’s  _ what that thought he was having was. It doesn’t matter if there are airbenders in the Air Temples, it just matters that  _ people _ are here. People who will love the Temples, help them grow and heal, and respect the culture and the space. 

~

Most of the libraries have been burnt to cinders. A few solitary pages or books remain, but not  _ nearly _ enough, and usually the content is kinda weird. One of the actually-intact books he found was all about  _ jam.  _ Which, like,  _ cool,  _ but definitely not what he was looking for. Another leaflet outlines most of the rules to AirBall, and another simply has a sketch of a monk in the middle of beginner katas. 

There is nothing,  _ anywhere _ , about tattoos. There are no sketches, no texts, no marginal doodles, nothing.

It shouldn’t matter. Really, it shouldn’t, because he’s found so much already. He is here in his _Temple,_ shouldn’t that be enough? 

But - _always_ _but_ \- Aang learned from Katara and Zuko and Sokka that a tattoo is the ultimate symbol of a culture. A tattoo is how you tell the world who you are, how you show that you matter. What would a culture even _be_ without tattoos? Sure, he has his arrow, but does that count? Is it enough? He can’t even remember how he got it, he can’t fathom how he would go about giving it to others. He has more tattoos that belong to other cultures than he does airbending tattoos - the firebending dragons, the waterbending lines, his fingers stained black from earthbending - so does he even count as an airbender, culturally? Like, he _can_ airbend, so he _is_ an airbender, but is that _enough?_

Does he need to do _more_ , ink the rest of his skin to prove himself? Well, of course he does. That’s why he’s here, isn’t he? To do more? He _owes_ the Air Nomads this, doesn’t he?

A year and four months into his stay at the Southern Air Temple, he wakes up and knows that it’s time to move on. When he goes to the stoneworker - Jian - it’s like he and his team already know. 

“You’re off then, huh?” Jian asks, wiping sweat off his brow. It’s mid-morning now, much later than Aang usually wakes, and Jian and his team have been hard at work since the early hours.

Aang tries his best to keep the surprise off his face. He doesn’t know if he succeeds. “How did you know?”

Jian grins, and the nearby parts of his team laugh. “You’ve been walking around like a lost ghost for weeks,” one of them says, flipping her hair over her strong shoulder.

“You gotta get outta here, man, it’s starting to get depressing,” a voice from around the corner adds.

Aang pouts, just a little. “But - I - the work here isn’t done.”

Jian rolls his eyes. “If you want to wait until all the work here is done you’ll be waiting until I’m dead, and then maybe even longer. This is the work of generations, not months. You’ve done all you can here - I think the other temples need your attention, now.”

Aang can’t argue with that. Over the course of this last year the Southern Air Temple has bloomed under the attentions of Jian and his team, and their spouses and families. It hadn’t been long after making the Temple structurally sound that the stoneworking team had started asking after the empty rooms in the compound, asking if they could be filled with their families and friends. Aang wishes he could say that he said yes right away, with enthusiasm, but… he’d had to think about it. He’d had to think about it  _ really hard,  _ actually, to separate his survivor’s guilt from his feelings about the Temple in order to make rational decisions about its future.

Standing here now, looking at Jian’s team’s happy faces, hearing their children yelling in the distance and smelling the green smell of the garden so tenderly cultivated by the families living there. There’s so much produce that no one really needs to use the earth bridge Aang bent to get into town for supplies. Now that he’s leaving he’s glad he’s made a way for them to get to the mainland without Appa, even if they don’t need it all that much.

Jian can see the complex emotions on Aang’s face, and it seems to hit him then that Aang is really still a kid, only twenty-four. 

“I know we’re not the Air Nomads, but… is it okay if we stay here? Make our home here, in the Temple, forever?” Jian asks.

“I thought that’s what you were doing,” Aang says, confused.

Jian smiles, a little. “Yeah, but we never actually asked if we could stay  _ forever.  _ We’d like to, but only if you agree.”

Aang is quiet for a while.  _ Everyone  _ is quiet for a while, all noises of construction have stopped, and the whole Temple seems to be holding its breath.

“Will you… will you rebuild the Air Bison stables? Just in case?” Aang’s voice comes out smaller than he intends it to, almost shy.

“We will.”

“And… I’ve reorganized the library, and added to it where I can to fill in the gaps. I think… if anyone reads through it and decides they’d like to be an Air Nomad, will you let me know?”

It’s Jian’s turn to be confused. “I thought the Air Nomads were all airbenders,” he asks hesitantly.

Aang scratches at the back of his neck, feeling vulnerable and a little sheepish. It makes sense that everyone would think that - Fire Nation propaganda is probably to blame. “No, we had a lot of civilian Nomads. The most important part about being a Nomad was the philosophy - moving like bamboo in the wind, rolling with the punches, trusting your instincts, and diffusing conflict. Loving was a huge part of it too. Everyone deserves love, of all kinds, so it was our job to spread love around the world.” Aang blushes suddenly. “I remember that there were a bunch of pregnant women who would come up to the temple because of that last one.” 

The crew laughs, the solemn tension eased, if not completely broken. After a moment of contemplation, Jian smiles warmly. “If anyone expresses an interest in becoming an Air Nomad, within my crew or otherwise, I promise to let you know as soon as I’m able.”

Aang breathes in deeply, and lets it out in a whoosh that rocks him back onto his heels. He doesn’t know if this is the  _ right  _ decision, but it doesn’t feel  _ wrong,  _ so it’s the decision he’s going to make.

He needs to move on, he knows that. This is his chance to do it, and chase the knowledge he’s looking for. Leaving the Southern Air Temple is going to be hard, but with Jian and his crew here to look after it while he’s gone, he thinks it’s going to be okay.

~

Aang is packed up and ready to go by the next morning. Jian, the crew, and their families all come out to see him off. The children clamber all over Appa to say goodbye as Aang takes his time hugging each and every one of his new friends, promising to write and let him know that he’s gotten to wherever he’s going safely. 

Jian is the last one to say goodbye. He presses some papers into Aang’s hand, making sure Aang knows which stoneworkers to contact near the Eastern, Western, and Northern Temples, then double and triple checking he has enough food and water for both him and Appa for the journey. It’s nice - he hadn’t felt fussed over like this since the last time he left Katara with Sokka in the Southern Water Tribe, and it makes him flush and scratch at the back of his neck. When Jian is finally satisfied that Aang is sufficiently outfitted for the trip, Aang boosts himself onto Appa’s back and they take off, waving until everyone is too small to see. 

It’s a long goodbye, but a good one, and Aang is wiping away tears and Appa makes a gentle mournful sound as they fly away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have... reached the end of what i have pre-written LOL  
> find me at rewmariewrites.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> aang is a slippery bastard, and I'm still not sure where his story is going. I've been working on it for like a year, and I still haven't really gotten anywhere, so I'll give you what I think I'm happy with. updates weekly, probably, until I catch up to what I've written!
> 
> thanks for sticking around while I've been gone. it means a lot <3


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